Maea
And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die
It heals them when you die
Amalia explained what the tulhaimnar was, and it left an ashen taste of guilt on Maea's tongue. She thought of the turtle she had encountered in the basement of the Spire. Recalled the frenzy of combat, of a snapping beak severing a head from a body, splattering irridescent liquid - not blood - over stone floors, and how rusted iron nails had sunk deep into dark, wise eyes... Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed hard, quickly turning her head away. "I... I see." And if her voice was thicker than it ought to be, perhaps it could just be written off as sympathy for Amalia's plight.
The memory of corrosive air filling her lungs persisted when Amalia reacted to her comment about Ludo, and Maea shook her head, retracting her statement; already regretting the words before they were fully off her tongue. "Poor choice of words," she admitted. "It was Remi's experiences I was thinking of... and something Jigano said last season, that made it feel as though he wasn't as happy as... But no, I don't think Ludo is cruel. Not at all. Though perhaps encouraging anyone to commit genocide is not very kind either..." Perhaps the fault was in trying to pin such mortal words onto a god.
The reminder of the puppet shows made her smile, hands stilling where they worked on the lantern. Memories of those were bittersweet to her. Small glimpses of happiness and joy in an ocean of dreary loneliness, of fever sweat and coughs and the bitter taste of medicine. Of a father's disappointed face when the brief spell of good health crumbled away, of a brother's ceaseless attempts to cheer her up while hiding his own worries away... of friends turning up to visit for a moment, only to leave again all too soon.
"I remember," Maea nodded... but again there was a conflict in her when Amalia said it had been last year, because... because hadn't she been there, too? She ought to have been, and yet... "It played Safrin, eh? I'd love to see that."
Setting the finished frame of a lantern aside, Maea dragged a hand over her face. Suddenly filled with that awful weariness that plagued her right after returning from wherever she had been. "I wish... I could have seen it... wish I'd been there. For all of it. I'm sorry, Amalia. For not.. for not being around. And for what I said to you, before." When she'd visited at the infirmary. When she'd stormed in, happy and hopeful, wanting to make amends for things in the distant past and found her friend more occupied with the present.
The memory of corrosive air filling her lungs persisted when Amalia reacted to her comment about Ludo, and Maea shook her head, retracting her statement; already regretting the words before they were fully off her tongue. "Poor choice of words," she admitted. "It was Remi's experiences I was thinking of... and something Jigano said last season, that made it feel as though he wasn't as happy as... But no, I don't think Ludo is cruel. Not at all. Though perhaps encouraging anyone to commit genocide is not very kind either..." Perhaps the fault was in trying to pin such mortal words onto a god.
The reminder of the puppet shows made her smile, hands stilling where they worked on the lantern. Memories of those were bittersweet to her. Small glimpses of happiness and joy in an ocean of dreary loneliness, of fever sweat and coughs and the bitter taste of medicine. Of a father's disappointed face when the brief spell of good health crumbled away, of a brother's ceaseless attempts to cheer her up while hiding his own worries away... of friends turning up to visit for a moment, only to leave again all too soon.
"I remember," Maea nodded... but again there was a conflict in her when Amalia said it had been last year, because... because hadn't she been there, too? She ought to have been, and yet... "It played Safrin, eh? I'd love to see that."
Setting the finished frame of a lantern aside, Maea dragged a hand over her face. Suddenly filled with that awful weariness that plagued her right after returning from wherever she had been. "I wish... I could have seen it... wish I'd been there. For all of it. I'm sorry, Amalia. For not.. for not being around. And for what I said to you, before." When she'd visited at the infirmary. When she'd stormed in, happy and hopeful, wanting to make amends for things in the distant past and found her friend more occupied with the present.
And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh
A whisper within a sigh
